December 0

Blog Archive

Thu, 24.09.2009

WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON by Joseph Seaman Cotter, Sr.

His country seared its conscience through its gain,
And had not wisdom to behold its loss,
It held God partner in the hellish stain,
And saw Christ dying on a racial cross.

What unto it the shackled fellowman,
Whose plea was mockery, and whose groans were mirth?
Its boasted creed was: “he should rule who can
Make prey of highest heaven and dupe of earth.”

From out this mass of century-tutored wrong
A man stood God-like and his voice rang true.
His soul was sentry to the dallying throng,
His thought was watchword to the gallant few.

He saw not as his fellow beings saw;
He wo

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Thu, 24.09.2009

THE WAY-SIDE WELL by Joseph Seamon Cotter, Sr.

A FANCY halts my feet at the way-side well.
It is not to drink, for they say the water is brackish.
It is not to tryst, for a heart at the mile’s end beckons me on.
It is not to rest, for what feet could be weary when a heart at the mile’s end keeps time with their tread?

It is not to muse for the heart at the mile’s end is food for my being.
I will question the well for my secret by dropping a pebble into it.
Ah, it is dry.

Strike lightning to the road, my feet, for hearts are like wells.

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New Poem Each Day

Poetry Corner

My old man’s a white old man And my old mother’s black. If ever I cursed my white old man I take my curses back. If ever I cursed my black old mother And... CROSS by Langston Hughes.
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